|2003-02-18 - 11:28 a.m.
they ask me where the hell i'm going
i discovered steamed taro and sweet potato. finding a new food here is like finding another grip about seven inches up the side of the cliff
two nights ago, warm and heavy was the air of an industrial summer. it was romantic in its weight and i longed to catch your hand in mine as we strolled under lantern and waterfall. reaching the park before sunset allowed us to watch the element's transformation. walking over little bridges of lakes with paddle boats and drooping branches. passing a monkey overdressed and miserable in the heat. finding a tower we ascended to look down over the city as the sun, now visible, neared the horizon like a burning bowling ball melting into a dirty seam. the moon must have been almost full as it rose up quickly behind us. slowly, lamps and lanterns lining the tower stairs, all stone and cave-like, began to flicker and glow. a palace opposiite the lake before us was covered in white christmas lights. in the forest in the distance, every fifth tree was wrapped in green, yellow, or red blinking bulbs. tacky to some, miraculous to me. it was like an ancient narnia without fable or legend. we walked back after dark through the city streets, the night markets, the smell of chicken and peanut oil.and again, i was happy.